


Admittance

by gatepromise



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatepromise/pseuds/gatepromise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's failing health brings out the big brother in Linc once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admittance

"Stop looking at me, it's fine. I'm fine."

"Dammit, Michael…"

Another day, another Lincoln-and-Michael argument over Michael's denied nosebleeds and obviously failing health. On this occasion, they were in Lincoln's SUV, doing something almost normal: On the way to pick up groceries and supplies, "Before our next disaster strikes", as Linc had so cynically, and succinctly, remarked on the way.

Linc should have known. He'd seen it coming. "Normal" was not normal for himself and his brother. For too long now, he'd been seeing Michael trying to hide splitting headaches, muscle aches, body weakness, and his nosebleeds. Sara had seen it too and shared Lincoln's concern and worry, particularly after Linc had shared their family history, but nothing the two people most important in Michael's life could say or do seemed to be able to convince Linc's brilliant, stubborn sibling to take steps towards diagnoses and treatment.

But now, they were stuck in traffic with Michael sitting beside him, holding a wad of tissues to his nose, head tilted back, brows furrowed in pain, and Michael was complaining because Lincoln kept glancing his way and noting how many tissues he was soaking through. It was hot, they weren't moving, and his brother was giving him a hard time for, well, being a big brother. With everything else that was wrong and messed up in their lives, this was the last straw.

"Hold on", he warned Michael, and in a sudden, violent twist of the steering wheel, Linc crossed the median and headed in the opposite direction of both traffic jam and intended destination, with Michael howling a protest about attracting unwanted attention with such a move.

"We're going to the clinic, getting you checked out, once and for all", Linc informed him firmly, and braced for what he knew was coming. It came.

"You're overreacting! This is not good, Lincoln. Fernando and Sara and the others are waiting on us and, and Sara can help me, if I needed help, which I don't…"

"Yeah, you just keep talking, college boy. Makes perfect sense, what with you dripping blood all over your shirt, and not for the first time or even the fifth time. We're going to get you some help."

"I don't need…"

"Yes, you do. And I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. This has gone on long enough."

Michael clenched his eyes shut suddenly against a shooting pain in his head, fervently hoping his brother was watching the road and not him at the moment. When he opened his eyes, his hopes were dashed. Lincoln's worried, determined eyes met his.

"Ask me again why we're going to the clinic."

Michael inhaled deeply through his mouth, shut his eyes again as the pain dissipated slightly, leaned his head back against the seat, and waited for the inevitable.  
The clinic was remarkably helpful, as medical establishments went. A nurse helped Michael into a wheelchair at the door while Lincoln parked the SUV, and when he jogged back to the door to wait with his brother, he found him already in a curtained off area, propped up on a gurney, looking suitably embarrassed as a matronly nurse took his vitals and fussed over him. Linc couldn't help but smile slightly; women of all ages adored his little brother. The older ones all wanted to mother and take care of him; the younger ones all took note of the handsome DNA he shared with Lincoln and reacted positively to it. Coupled with Michael's beyond-the-norm high intelligence and his sensitive, soft-spoken shyness, and Lincoln's younger brother was a magnet for the opposite sex.

Right now, though, said magnet looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. The motherly nurse had succeeded only in getting his shoes off, had reached for Michael's socks, and had been met with Michael startling and pulling his knees up under his chin and hiding his feet from her. Linc might have chuckled if he hadn't known the cause of Mike's foot-bashfulness: His lack of two toes always caused more questions than they wanted to answer.

"Hi, there. I'm Michael's brother. Thanks for helping us out, uh…" He glanced quickly at her name tag . "Laurie. I'll stay with him until the doctor gets here, if that's okay."

Michael glanced gratefully at his brother and slowly lowered his legs.

"Oh, uh…" His brother's unusual reaction had surprised the nurse for a moment, but she seemed to rally. "I think you can stay with him if you'd like, while I get some forms for you to fill out, and take a history." She addressed Michael. "I'll be back in a moment with a saline IV for you. You're very dehydrated."

"Thank you", Michael murmured.

When the nurse had left the room, Linc pulled up a nearby stool and sat down on it with a sigh. Michael was gripping the bedrail and studiously ignoring him, but for the moment, he seemed okay. His nose had stopped bleeding, anyway.

"Hey, you want me to call Sara?"

"No, I don't want you to worry anyone else."

"She'll want to know where you are, probably meet us here…"

"While you're at it, why don't you call everyone else who might worry, too. Short list, I know, but, this is ridiculous."

Linc's eyes widened at Michael's outburst. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong with me! That's what I've been saying. I just got hijacked by you, I have other things to do than be here, and…..

Once again, Michael's body chose an inopportune time to betray him. Michael clenched his jaw against another onslaught of pain. This time, he saw flashes of light behind his tightly closed eyelids. It seemed for a moment that the room tilted oddly, and his stomach rolled in warning.

"Allright, calm down, Michael. Just take it easy. Breathe." It had always amazed Michael how mercurial his brother's voice could sound, one moment teasing, the next demanding, the next soothing and gentle.

Michael kept his eyes shut, heard Lincoln murmur words of comfort and felt him squeeze his shoulder.

"I'm too warm", Michael managed to get out.

For a moment, the hand that was on his shoulder left him, and Michael heard the slight squeak of the stool Linc had been sitting on as he got up. Michael bit his lip. His head was spinning, but he was not going to beg his brother to stay with him, not here, not now. If he had learned anything in prison, it was never to show himself as vulnerable in a public place.

He didn't have to wait long. Even with his eyes shut against the pounding in his head, he sensed Lincoln's return, and then felt a cool cloth being passed over his head, down his face, and under his chin. Another was lain across his forehead.

"Thanks", he said to the pair of big hands administering to him.

"Yeah", came the gruff reply.

Lincoln passed the cool cloth over Michael's face and chest again. "Feel any better now?"

"Mm", Michael answered, non-committal. He chanced cracking open one eyelid. Not too bad. He opened both eyes. Lincoln was sitting at eye level to him, not bothering to conceal his worry.

"You look like shit, brother."

Michael couldn't help but smirk at that. "Back at ya." That earned him an eyeroll from Lincoln.

"I mean it, you're a mess."

Michael looked away. "I know."

"Well, at least you know. Why have you been in denial about this all this time?"

"I…We don't have time for this." Michael hated the way his voice broke at the end of his sentence.

Lincoln looked at Michael for a moment with an inscrutable expression. "You know, Mom died a long time ago. Medicine has come far since then…"

Michael fought to keep his expression controlled.

"I'm just saying, whatever it is, we'll deal with it."

"And, if it's nothing?"

"Won't that be a pleasant surprise."

Nurse Laurie came back with the forms and the questions, and Michael dozed, only half listening to Lincoln's answers. Their life dictated that they be very good at lying to protect themselves, but it still grated. Lincoln's concoctions weren't nearly as entertaining as Sucrae's tended to be, but far more plausible.

Eventually, the IV was started, and Michael gave up trying to pay even half attention as Lincoln told the nurse of their mother and the similarities to Michael's present condition. He guessed there was something more in the IV than saline….

"….and Michel is now 31, just as our mother was when she passed. The nosebleeds are…"

"….nothing serious", Michael tried to interject, but was suspicious that his words had sounded vaguely like "Mmf sssrieres"

"What happened to his toes?", the nurse asked, and Michael groaned inwardly. Apparently, the old dame had managed to de-sock him when he wasn't looking.

"War wound", Lincoln supplied. Good one! Michael cheered silently.

Laurie seemed to finish with her questions and then cheerily invited Lincoln to step out so that she could help Michael out of his blood-stained clothes. Lincoln and Michael shared a look. Once in awhile, the outside world reminded Michael of things like privacy and modesty, all things he'd given up and learned the hard way to be stoic about during his time at Fox River and at Sona.

Lincoln tilted his head slightly, indicating he'd be right outside the cubicle, and Michael nodded in acknowledgement.

His nurse called Michael "Honey" and apparently had undressed plenty of young men in her time, because she did this time quickly and efficiently, with Michael cooperating as much as his IV-induced haziness allowed him.

Michael heard his brother talking on his cell phone on the other side of the curtain. "Yeah, another bleed…I didn't let him say no….."

Sara. He must be talking to Sara. Just great. She was no doubt on the way. And worried. Just what Michael hadn't wanted.

Everything was so out of his control….

Lincoln finished his phone call and stepped back into the curtained room. He said nothing, and Michael noted his presence only by opening his eyes to slits briefly. His pain level had been manageable, but suddenly it felt like knives were being stuck in him. The hazy feeling of detachment the IV drugs had gifted him with seemed to be short-lived. Now his head was pounding to the beat of his heart, and every noise, every bit of light, any movement he was asked to make by the nurse, seemed to make the room spin.

And that was when his stomach rebelled and emptied its contents all over Lincoln, the bed, the floor and the nurse.

He had to stifle a sob after that. He kept his eyes closed, heard Lincoln snapping angrily at the nurse to get the doctor and muttering quiet curses under his breath. Felt himself being moved, cleaned up, and what he knew to be Lincoln's hands helping him to rinse his mouth and wipe his face with another cool cloth.

Time passed. His nose registered the changing scent of the room, from the reek of bitter vomit to antiseptic cleaner once again. He knew Lincoln was there, though he had left briefly; a quick flicker of his eyelids confirmed that his brother had changed his clothes and was now wearing hospital scrubs. He heard and sensed others coming and going; what had to be the doctor, and then Sara, whom he managed to open his eyes for again and squeezed her hand. He was almost certain Sucrae had been with him too, offering reassurance and support as always, but he was much too tired to respond. And then the bed was moving, with Sara holding his hand; he opened his eyes briefly to see the overhead fluorescent lights passing, but no sign of Lincoln.

Michael slept.

 

~~~~~  
He awoke from his drug-induced and thankfully dreamless state with only a slight headache. He felt the pull of his IV and the slight itch of other monitors. A hospital room, with muted sounds and light from the open doorway. Night had fallen, the room was semi-dark, and Sara was dozing in the chair beside the bed. He gazed at her silently, not wanting to disturb her, again amazed at the depth of the love of this beautiful woman for him, and his own for her. She was one of the very few bright spots in a very dark and disheartening world, his world.

Lincoln wasn't with him, and Michael knew better than to have expected him to be; after all, their group had an operation to run, and his older brother did not have the time to watch him sleep. It would be irrational and childish of Michael to be disappointed by Lincoln's absence.

Michael closed his eyes and turned his head on the pillow. Something brushed against his cheek.

He opened his eyes. Even in the semi-darkness, he recognized the shape of the small object next to him.

A paper crane.

He clutched the crane to his chest and fell asleep again with a slight smile on his lips.

~~~End~~~


End file.
